


Web of Love

by KyleBlamedCanada



Category: South Park
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Asexual, Asexual Character, Cupid - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Klinefelter Syndrome, Kydi, Love is in the Air, M/M, Stendy, XXY Chromosome, alien - Freeform, clydebe, creek - Freeform, extraterrestrial, get ready for my boi to fix life, matchmaker, super best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-12 10:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15993110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyleBlamedCanada/pseuds/KyleBlamedCanada
Summary: Kyle is...different.He has the strange ability to play matchmaker; for everyone but himself.He is content with this for the most part and begins his destiny of helping love find its way.Eric Cartman doesn't like it when others take his title.Will Kyle come forth with his ability?Or, will he burn in predictable South Park failure?





	1. The Start of the Day

          Kyle Broflovski was...different.

          He had a sharp chin, a crooked nose, freckles, electric green eyes, a long lanky body, a bubble butt, and some secret things he didn’t want most kids to find out.

          He was a virgin, he wore a binder, he had multiple medical conditions, and he never found interest in sex, let alone porn.

          Kyle Broflovski was different.

          When he was being formed in...his mother’s womb, it was a complete surprise to his parents. To be honest, he wasn’t supposed to...form within his mother. His parents didn't even have unprotected sex at that time. Maybe he would have looked better if he was found on their doorstep or something. Too much uncomfortable shifting and DNA splicing for his taste.

          He was just thankful he was not related to his father in any way.

          When he was born, the doctors had told his parents he had Klinefelter Syndrome. He also had peculiar eyes the doctors commented on. They glowed. His eyes _literally_ glowed in the dark, bright with electricity. Kyle could vaguely remember scaring his parents the first few nights with his monster-like eyes. Over time, the bright glow faded, leaving it dull and almost unnoticeable. 

          Unless he flipped a switch in his head.

          He opened his tired eyes and sat up in bed, looking over at his clock. He had an hour until his alarm rang. His stomach twisted as he leaned over to his nightstand and pulled out a granola bar. He took a bite out of it and stood, stretching as he headed to his closet.

          His tongue tried to dig the dried fruit from in-between his teeth as he pulled a corkboard from his closet, placing it on his bed and looking over it. He reached into his nightstand again and picked up a bag full of colored yarn.

          He looked back at the corkboard, the rising sun giving little light to his project. It was covered with pictures, images of the teens he knew and went to school with. It was Thursday today. He closed his eyes and his brain flipped a switch.

          Opening his eyes, he saw nothing. Black surroundings, with white and gray human-like silhouettes coming into view. Few of the silhouettes came in pairs, with colored strings attaching them together. Nothing had changed dramatically.

          He turned his head, looking at the silhouettes without a pair. It broke his heart, seeing them alone, their colored strings reaching out but never touching another. There were two, in particular, he was interested in.

          The first had a slightly darker shade of white with a pink string reaching out to touch another. Young love, a crush, puppy love.

          The second was complicated. This silhouette had multiple pink strings reaching to silhouettes in pairs and single standing figures. Green strings, envy, accompanied the pink strands that were drawn to someone in a pair. Another green string, jealousy, along with a thin orange string, falling apart, reached with a pink string for Kyle.

          Kyle made a mental note to talk to the owner of the silhouette later, He didn’t want his friendship to crumble.

          But, there was something more important that caught his attention. The second silhouette was reaching out for the first with a pink and an indigo strand. Sexual desires. Kyle couldn’t help but grin, his hand working to add the purple string to his corkboard. A faint white string was starting to appear between the two, making Kyle assume that it was only a matter of time before the first silhouette added a new color to her strands. He had to wait and see.

          He blinked, the surreal dark expanse disappearing, leaving him in his room again. He played with the purple string in his hand and tied it around a tack securing Stan Marsh’s photo. He led the string to Wendy Testaburger and secured it right before it touched her photo. He wouldn’t attach a white string yet, it was still too early.

 

* * *

 

          “A kite that shoots lasers out of its eyes?”

          “Yeah, dude!” Kyle grinned and blinked, his eyes glowing fiercely.

          “Whoa, dude!” Stan grinned and leaned forward, studying the electric green that shined brightly.

          As a child, Stan was really the only one who knew Kyle's tiny secrets, like his eyes. He never really questioned much. Who would? They were ten. But, of course, this didn’t stop Kyle from talking about things that one would assume was from his imagination.

          Kyle blinked, the glow disappearing. Playing Super Heroes was an amazing excuse to not hide his special snobby little self. He was very excited to give his origin story to Stan.

          “I am an alien from outer space! My home planet was destroyed and my people scattered. My original parents sent me to earth to protect me, but when I found out what my powers were, I decided to help those in need!”

          Stan looked over the character sheet again, nodding. When he gets older, he’ll realize Human Kite’s origin story had a big influence from Kyle’s origin story. But we’ll get to that later.

          “What’s asexual?” Stan pointed to the sexuality slot on the paper and Kyle leaned over his shoulder to take a look.

          Asexual. Something that was very important to Kyle’s real identity.

          “It means I don’t like sex, dude,” he stated a matter-of-factly.

          “What? That’s weird, dude. You don’t like things lik-” Kyle slammed his hand over Stan’s mouth before he could say anything more.

          “NO,” he narrowed his eyes at his super best friend.

          Stan licked Kyle’s palm, making him screech and pull back, complaining about the uncleanliness of Stan’s saliva before rubbing his hand across Stan’s shirt.

          “Gross,” Stan stated, grinned as Kyle’s face grew hot.

          “That’s _your_ spit!! Don’t you _dare_ say it’s gross!!”

          Stan laughed as his friend complained, papers flying as the two ten-year-olds got into a wrestling match. Complaints turning into laughter as Kyle was pinned down, the victor being Stan.

 

* * *

 

          Lunchtime was surprisingly peacefully now. No Eric Cartman existed to wear their ears out in the Art Room. Not many students actually visited the Art Room during lunch, and the few that were there usually minded their own business or came with their own group of friends. Once in a while, a rowdy group of art kids would come up, but they never caused the trouble Cartman did.

          The only interactions they really got was a “Hi” or a nod from the others, which suited them just fine. Today was an empty day, other then Stan and Kyle, there was a small group in the corner talking quietly about gossip and art.

          Stan and Kyle worked on homework as they ate, helping each other sometimes. Kyle helped Stan much more than Stan helped Kyle, but they learned a lot from each other.

          Kyle had finished early and began working on a personal art project. He seemed very excited to do this, which was strange to Stan.

          “Whatcha workin’ on?” Stan leaned into Kyle’s shoulder and looked at the small art piece.

          It was a small pink heart, laced in purple with tiny crystal glue-on gems and tiny paper flowers.

          Kyle looked up at Stan and smiled, “If you were to confess your love to someone, what would you say?”

          “Are you trying to get a girlfriend?”

          Kyle bit his tongue and shrugged. He had the worst luck with relationships, which was ironic due to his...alien abilities.

          “...for someone,” Kyle chose his words carefully.

          “You’re helping someone get a girlfriend?” Stan raised his eyebrows.

          “Yeah, pretty much,” Kyle slid a scrap paper to Stan. “If you had a special someone, what would you say to them?”

          Stan stared at the paper and then at Kyle, “You’re not...going to use this, right?”

          “No! No, is just, uh...a template?”

          Kyle was a horrible liar, but Stan rolled his eyes and began to write down something on the scrap paper. He would help, but he had to do something more important first.

          He finished the small letter suspiciously quickly and handed it back to Kyle, smirking. Kyle looked at it and fumed with anger, crumpling it up and throwing it at Stan’s head.

          Kyle was not amused, “Be serious!!”

          Stan snickered and ducked, “What~? You don’t like my compliment?”

          “‘You’ve got a fat ass’ is not a compliment. Try again, and please just...pour your heart and soul into this.”

          “Fiiiine. You're such a party pooper,” Stan snickered and grabbed another scrap of paper.

          “‘Party pooper’? Really? That’s the insult you came up with?”

          Stan was silent, he stared at the paper and set down his pen. Kyle nudged him, a little corner.

          “Holy shit, dude,” Stan half-whispered to himself before looking at Kyle with wide eyes. “I’ve never said that before…”

          Kyle’s eyes widened as he stared at Stan, folding his arms and thinking carefully. The two sat in silence, thinking about the childish insult and how they never used it and how many more unused baby insults were out there?

          It took a while before stan cracked his knuckles, making Kyle flinch, and began writing what Kyle told him to. His heart and soul for a girl he liked. 

          Too bad he would never have the courage to give it to her.

          He handed the scribbled note to Kyle, who read over it. He fixed some punctuation, added some grammar, and crossed off some...overly-detailed information about the female body structure. Stan clicked his tongue and began to scold Kyle on ‘the art of poetry’ or something like that. Kyle rebutted with ‘girls don’t like shit like this’ and that’s where the argument ended.

          Kyle wrote the final version of the small letter, letting Stan peer over his shoulder. Other then the slight editing, it was relatively the same. Stan found that strange but didn’t question it.

          “Whoever you’re helping, he must be one lucky dude,” Stan whistled at the quality of the small card.

          Kyle looked up at Stan with a smile, “He sure is.”


	2. The War Has Begun

          When Kyle was thirteen, his mother was pulled to the side in the middle of a check-up. It had worried him when Sheila exited the room, so he tried to listen through the closed door. He couldn’t hear anything until his mother began shouting at the doctor.

          They left soon afterwards. His mother was fuming in the car ride home, Kyle was almost afraid to speak.

          When they arrived home, his mom immediately infiltrated his father’s office to do some research, leaving Kyle to awkwardly leave and hang out with his friends.

          That evening, at the dinner table, Sheila began informing Kyle on her research. He had listened carefully to his mother, cheerful after the outburst at the doctor's office. It had made him curious, pushing him to make some personal research of his own.

          Before he went to bed, he stared at himself in the mirror, shirtless, and running his hands over his chest. He had noticed the change in his body a while ago, his pants never seemed to fit his hips quite right. And last year his chest area had begun to hurt when it was pressed harshly.

          He was uncomfortable and ended up pulling his shirt on before he texted Stan. Hardly five minutes had passed when he heard the coded knock on his window. After entering and getting settled on the bed, Kyle’s nerves began to melt when started to speak.

          “I was at the doctor's today and, uh...” He fiddled with his fingers, “Ma got really upset.”

          Stan tilted his head to the side, “Why?”

          “The doctor suggested to her that I should get...surgery.”

          Kyle had a fear of surgery ever since he became a black boy when he was nine.

          He sighed and gripped his fingers, “Turns out, I have Klinefelter syndrome.”

          “What’s that?”

          “Uh...well, you know how males have the XY chromosome and females have XX chromosomes?”

          “I thought it was the other way around?”

          Kyle was silent and stared at Stan, slowly shaking his head, “No, Stan, that’s...no...girls have XX. Guys have XY.”

          “I thought...oh...”

          Kyle groaned and held Stan’s face with disappointment.

          ”Why?” He whispered, “Why are you like this?”

          “I don't know,” Stan whispered back, freeing his face of Kyle’s grasp.

          “ _Anyways_ ,” Kyle sighed and folded his arms. “XX and XY, okay?”

          Stan nodded, and Kyle continued, “So Klinefelter syndrome means that a male has an extra female chromosome, the X chromosome.”

          “And that means...” Stan clapped his hands together with a grin, “...what?”

          Kyle stared at Stan and laughed, his tense posture from before melting away entirely. It made Stan smile, knowing he could calm his friend down by just acting dumb.

          He nudged Kyle, “I’m kidding. You have an extra X chromosome...XXY. That’s what it’s called?”

          “Yeah, you’re good.”

          “So what does that mean?”

          “It means that my body is kind of being overpowered by female...stuff and uh...I have boobs.”

 

* * *

 

          It was Friday. Kyle took a breath, clutching the hall pass nervously as he walked briskly down the hall. He loved this feeling. This was his favorite feeling.

          His heart pounded in his ears, excitement flowing through his veins as he approached a locker. He dug into his pockets and pulled out a crumpled schedule he stole from Stan’s backpack. He would return it later.

          He looked at the locker number on the paper and at the small metal plate on the locker. The numbers matched up perfectly.

          Kyle unzipped his jacket and carefully took out the hidden love letter.

          He breathed slowly, looking over the decoration and words carefully.

          It was perfect.

          He smiled and folded it, pushing it through a crack in the locker.

          Finally, he stepped back, his heartbeat calming down to its regular drumming.

          He took one final breath of reassurance before he turned around and slowly walked back to class. He couldn’t help but smile as he fiddled with the hall pass. Completing his destiny was the greatest feeling.

 

* * *

 

          Later that day at lunch he noticed that Wendy was running late. Had she found it?

          A snap in his face brought him back to reality.

          “Dude,” Stan looked somewhat concerned. “You’ve been staring.”

          Kyle blinked at Stan, realizing he had been staring at the girl's lunch table for some time.

          “Oh...” he whispered quietly, turning his attention back to his table.

          Things were normal for the most part. Butters was being tied up into something Cartman was planning, Kenny was showing Clyde some sort of new porn site with his phone, Craig had started some sort of argument with Cartman, while the rest of them ate quietly.

          Stan leaned into Kyle, crumpling an empty chip bag in his hands.

          “Come to the art room with me?”

          Kyle bit the inside of his cheek, glancing back at the empty seat at the girls table. He jumped the gun, of course. He couldn’t expect love to find a way in a simple twenty minutes. He nodded and the two gathered their trash, standing up to leave.

          “You couldn’t play matchmaker, even if God gave you a list!” Craig exasperatedly shouted.

          Cartman scoffed, and Kyle looked up at the two in surprise. Matchmaker?

          Stan noticed Kyle’s sudden interest and rolled his eyes, sitting back down with his friend.

          “Listen, Craig, you have to admit I put together some really good matches,” Cartman smirked.

          “By mistake,” Kyle mumbled.

          Cartman turned to Kyle, “What was that?”

          “Nothing.”

          “Did you have something to say, Khal?”

          “Oh, no, nothing at all. It’s just that it wasn’t you who paired together Token and Nichole,” Kyle glared at Cartman.

          Cartman glared back, dangerous sparks flying between the two.

          “Oh boy, here we go,” a muffled Kenny groaned.

          “Excuse you, but if it weren’t for me, Token and Nichole wouldn’t be happy together!”

          “That is _not_ true!!” Kyle leaned over and pointed at Cartman, “You just sped up fate’s route!”

          “So it _is_ because of me.”

          “I didn’t say that! They would have gotten together regardless!”

          “And how do _you_ know that, Khal?” Cartman smirked, a hand on his second chin.

          All eyes were on Kyle, but he didn’t seem to notice, “Because anyone with a god damn brain can see that! More importantly, how can a matchmaker be in a failed relationship?”

          Cartman laughed, “Funny of you to say that, Khal. Shall we count the ways you’ve cockblocked chicks?”

          Staring quiet eyes judged the space between the two rivals as Cartman lifted a fat porky hand.

          “Let’s see,” he sang joyfully. “Nichole Daniels, Mackenzie Beasley, Casey Wink, Shruti Patel, Emily Martin, Leslie Meyers, Grace Mathews, Rebecca Cotswolds, and I’m pretty sure you’ve got it on with Stan a few times.”

          His voice rang in Kyle’s ears, and Stan butted in in order to keep Kyle from exploding.

          “Dude, we never dated,” Stan stated much calmer than Kyle’s state of mind.

          “Oh I’m  _sure_ you didn’t,” Cartman mocked. His eyes lit up. “I seem to be forgetting someone.”

          The table shifted into a cold and uncomfortable silence.

          Kyle growled, “We went over this, fatass.”

          “What was her name again?”

          “Don’t.”

          “Oh, I know!”

          Cartman turned his head so he looked dead into Kyle’s eyes. His mouth moved slowly, stretching out the name.

          “Heidi Turner.”


End file.
